Dots
by pas l'auteur
Summary: Ignacia Kingdom. Located in a vast yet barren island, far east of the globe. No more than a million people dwelt the land. Surrounded with lawless ocean. And... an only surviving nation from Great war between two ruling nations. -AU


**Disclaimer : _I don't own Persona 3 &amp; 4 characters._**

**Warning : Alternate Universe (AU), fantasy world, non-cannon Pairings, original characters (OCs) involved, cliffhangers, probably some out of character-ness (OOC-ness) and slow updates!**

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**Blue, Blue plus Red, and then Nothing.**

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Newcomers. Nobody ever liked them. Pink Gorilla was no exception. The patrons around there were mostly The Great War veterans or seasoned mercenaries. It's a kindness when they were welcoming newcomers with hostile glares. It would lead into a fight soon enough. If the newcomers were strong enough to win the assault, the patrons bought them some drinks. Funny, huh?

A bartender thought so.

Five months had passed since he took the job. It's not so often he could see someone triumphed over the Pink Gorilla's patrons. Notably at night, when Old Man Gerik usually dwelling around. Nobody knew about him, particularly, nobody dared to find out. There were those scars all over his bare left arms, practically yelling at everyone to stay away. And if someone didn't get that message, Old Man Gerik didn't mind to just kick them out the bar, figuratively. Scary, right?

That blue haired man over there might not agree.

He just nonchalantly walked inside Pink Gorilla, hands deep inside his pocket. His garb was like those people who live uptown. That checkered dark-blue vest he wore over his black shirt really shown a higher status among the patrons. Clearly made him more unwanted. And yet he ignored all the cold glares and seated himself at Old Man Gerik's table.

The room went silent after that. Dozens of hostile eyes watched the blue haired man. It was terrifying, yet interesting. The bartender leaned closer to the counter to observe the situation more clearly.

Old Man Gerik chugged down his bottle of beer before bashing it on the table. "You're disturbing my night, boy." His voice were as gruffly as usual.

"Are you Gerik?" That blue haired man didn't seem to be bugged by the tense atmosphere.

"Yeah, I am. What do you want?"

"You're on my list."

Now the bartender found difficulties hearing the blue haired man's last word. But it seemed that he heard it right. Seeing Old Man Gerik rose abruptly from his seat and start squishing the man's neck. Downright gutsy, the young bartender admitted that. However, having a lot of guts was the fastest way to get killed. Contrary to his saying, the bartender witnessed a fascinating yet unbelievable fight instead of watching the death of a newcomer.

That blue haired man grabbed Old Man Gerik's arm. His mouth were like saying a word before Old Man Gerik's arm started to engulf in flames. As his black boots was touching the ground he threw his palm up, hitting Old Man Gerik's jaw. The staggered Old Man Gerik was caught off guard by the man's left hand. It was cloaked with violent fire as it plowed through Old Man's Gerik's body. That clearly ended the life of Old Man Gerik.

What's more fascinating was the deceased body. It was vaporized. The bartender had never seen something that, much less the rest of the patron. They gawked in silenced as the blue haired man walked toward the counter, hands inside his pocket again.

"Uh…" The blue haired man began, "Pour me anything cheap."

"R-Right away!" With five months experience working, the young bartender shouldn't find any problem serving one drink. But, that man's presences just kept his arms shaking. It wasn't entirely his fault that the drink came later than it should be.

"Sorry for the trouble."

Yet the man's face didn't look apologetic at all. He stoically sipped his drink before looking back at the crowd. The patrons didn't seem to believe what just happened to Old Man Gerik as they surrounded the ashes.

"…you should run."

The bartender raised an eyebrow. Soon enough he comprehended why the man suggested him to run. The patrons were beginning to focus their attention to the blue haired man. Eyes widened, the bartender witnessed something he never should. The patrons' body began to bulk unnaturally. Their skin were also evolved to black, thick looking scales. Eerily, their eyes were golden bright.

Suddenly surrounded in a fire circle, the blue haired man stood across them, rolling up his sleeve over his elbow. The bartender could only watched him scribbling unknown words on his left arm with his fiery finger. "…I request upon thy might… Orpheus."

All of the sudden, the flames circling around the blue haired man fire was gone. His back seemed relaxed after that. Eventually, previously patrons, those monsters, charged at him.

The bartender understand his own limit. His built was pretty average and he had no exceptional skill in combat. Heck, as long as he could remember, he never got into fight his whole life. He'd jump into the train of doom if he tried to help that man… or even stayed still behind the counter. He knew he should run. Run fast. Yet his legs were frozen in place.

He could only stood and watched.

Opening his arms wide, the blue haired man created a wall of flame between him and the monsters. Those monsters were able to penetrate it with ease, but it was as if the man has calculated. "Maragi," the bartender heard him lowly recited, reaching out his right hand at them. The wall of flames were shifted into fireballs. It violently struck the monsters from behind, burning them alive. The flames on their body were rendering them panic. Then the bartender could hear the blue haired man whispered, "Tarunda," causing the scales on the monsters crumbled. He recited Maragi one more time to completely vaporize some of them. Only three left.

He looked exhausted, that blue haired man. Understandable, somehow. The bartender was too scared to move, yes, but he observed. He had no concrete idea however, he could imagine throwing seven big rocks at once. It was pretty tiring, obviously.

Yet, despite how he looked struggling to catch his breath the blue haired man was able to dodge one of the monsters powerful lunge. In retaliation, he shoot a fireball from his hand, destroying it. That left him vulnerable, the bartender knew that.

Knowing that didn't mean he would just jump out to rescue the man. Not enough guts to do that. Although, he oddly had enough guts to throw a glass. Drawing those monsters attention. He had no idea why he did that idiotic stunt.

As expected, the two gigantic beings were after the bartender. He should run, obviously. But sadly, his motoric cells seemed to have a serious disagreement with his brain. He didn't want to die. No one wanted to die! He still had a dream of becoming The Princess' servant. Petty dream, he knew. But The Princess just really pretty…

Oh well… his life was about to end anyway. Those large fists was going to bash his skull open in any second.

Accepting his death, the bartender closed his eyes.

A lean figure stood by the streets, staring blankly at him. The face looked familiar, but this dense fog around proved some difficulties to see.

Who's that?

Why just stand there?

He tried to move closer the figure, only found himself chained between two poles. Arms and legs were spread wide as if the poles were actually yanked them. Slowly, the figure moved closer and closer. He struggled, trying to break the chains. But it's futile.

The figure stopped just a foot from him and he still couldn't see the face. But, he could clearly see the golden eyes the figure had. It's eerie yet majestic. It stared intensely into his black coal pairs, as if trying to figure out what's inside his mind. Then the figure chop his head off with a blade.

"Hey, calm down."

The bartender abruptly opened his eyes. Jolt of pain flashing through his head as he tried to move his body. He found himself laying on the round table. He also felt this tight bandage wrapped around his forehead. From that alone he could recalled what had happened.

"Easy on your head. I barely keep your skull intact."

He looked up at the voice.

It was owned by a woman, judging by that long auburn hair hung loosely over her black cloak. She then turned back to face him. Smiling cheerfully as if nothing ever troubled her. "Rise. That's my name." She paused, pointing her finger across from her. "And that jerk-face over there is Minato."

The bartender followed her finger. Minato she was introduced was that man with the blue hair, sitting on the stool. He could only saw Minato's back, but that checkered dark vest were something he couldn't forget so easily.

"I heard you saved him."

"…no. He… saved me."

"Hmmm…." Rise began to walk toward Minato. She seated herself beside him with eyes staring intensely and a mischievous smile. Minato didn't seem to care.

"Hey, um… thanks."

"No problem! It's not like I revived you from dead." Rise then giggled, "Still, you're going to feel the pain again. As soon as the drug wear off."

"Drug? What drug?"

"Oh, just something I experiment with. Traveling with this jerk-face is boring, you know!"

Minato only scoffed as Rise playfully messed up his blue hair.

The bartender didn't dare to ask further about this drug. Yes he did curious of how much longer it could ease the pain. But knowing it might make him uneasy. It's like knowing when he's gonna die.

About what had happened in his beloved Pink Gorilla however, he didn't hesitate to ask.

"Miii~nato, it's your turn~~" Rise began to stand up, walking away from both men. "I have outside if you need me."

The bartender felt he could move his muscle, pushing up his body to sit. Minato was already face him. His eyes looked empty, as if he had no care about the world. "Thanks."

"I should be the one who said that…" The bartender claimed in disgust of his own incompetence. "Thanks."

Minato shrugged, "You're welcome," and then he's silent.

The bartender waited for him to talk, thinking Minato probably looking for an easy and understandable explanation. But Minato didn't appear to be thinking at all. Only staring at the bartender with that dark blue eyes. And so he asked again.

"Oh, yeah, that." The blue haired man moved his gaze to the wooden ceiling. "Gerik was a Parasite Lord. He was commanding about a hundred of lesser Parasites in this town."

"Parasite Lord…?"

"…of course you don't know that," Minato leaned his back against the counter, "Parasite is one of the Shadows that could hide behind a human flesh… and acts like them. Those humans are already dead of course."

The bartender had heard about Shadows. Man-Eater. Living Apocalypse. Abominations. Myth. Unknown Beings. It had many other names in the books he had read. Those faceless monsters in the forest north of here might be one of them.

He overheard the Great War veterans referred them as Shadows. Their stories weren't told to strangers. Only shared them with fellow veterans. So it might be something most people, including himself, unaware of.

There's also a possibility they didn't want people to know about its existence.

Great War was over thirty years ago. The bartender hadn't even born yet. He learned about it from books and history lessons. And basic education program given by the Kingdom to its people aged from ten to fifteen. It was told as the war between Soutlet Republic and Nortia Empire. The war ended with a truce, if he recalled correctly.

"What are you then?"

The bartender knew it was a sensitive subject. Same kind like 'are you divorced?' or 'what's your underwear color?' in his opinion anyway.

Minato didn't look troubled at all though, or even comfortable. He's just… silent and kept his gaze leveled with the bartender's coal black eyes. Not showing any emotion in the slightest.

Just as the bartender thought Minato was never going to answer, the blue haired man's mouth opened, "I am…"

"Minato!"

Both men turned their attention to Rise. She ran toward Minato, whispering to his ears with a worried look. The bartender could even see sweats running down from her forehead.

Minato only nodded and nodded. The bartender figured Rise was trying to explain a 'grave situation' she and Minato had fallen into. Eventually the pair turned their attention at him. Rise looked very troubled, while Minato… well,

"There's a back door over there."

Pink Gorilla would never look like the way it was. The scorched floor, broken tables, holes in the wall, remains of Shadows. Not even the bartender's savings could fix them. Stock of beers and whiskeys was also running low, thanks to him himself. He drank, a lot, just to ease the occurring pain in his head. It had progressed until now, the third day. Yet the pain kept coming back and only getting worse.

Rise did spared him some vials of her drug. He used it all… first time the pain kicked in. Not a wise decision, obviously. But it was really unbearable.

He cursed himself for saving Minato.

Speaking of the blue haired man, he and his companion Rise might be already out of town. A group of Ignacia's Elite were looking for them. The bartender showed them the back door, helping them to escape. The least he could do to pay them back.

Although he decided not to pry, the bartender still curious of why Ignacia Kingdom dispatched Elites to capture them. Marked with steel armband with Ignacia's fiery emblem, Elites were a group of specialized soldiers. Rumor said those guys were created to do the Kingdom's dirty job. Assassination, if he heard correctly.

That's what piqued his curiosity.

What deeds did Minato and Rise do to be marked for death?

"Rraargh!" The bartender had his slender hands held his head. It's coming again. He bit his own hand, trying to divert the pain. However, biting until it bleed made no slightest difference. The pain in his head was greater than any other he had experienced. It felt as if his brain was being violently stirred by burning spatula.

Screams filled the soulless room. The young bartender screamed. He screamed and screamed until he barely heard his own voice. Then his vision began to blur… and slowly but sure, he lost his consciousness.

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Two pairs of vigilant eyes watched as a young man calmly stepping out of Pink Gorilla. From afar, his sickly pale skin were illuminated by the sunlight. The howling wind blew his ragged wavy jet-black hair and so was his simple bartender attire. He was glancing around his surroundings, as if trying to figure out where he was. He then looked up at the pair,

…displaying his bright golden eyes.

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**Author's Note : Thank you.**


End file.
